Changes
by TraceAce
Summary: Spoilers from 12/24. Steph has made fun of Jericho for being immature, a clown, a loser...and she finds the opposite of her insults to be worse then before..


**Changes**

**A/N: **Short, angsty fic. Steph POV, spoilers from 12/24 RAW…I dunno, I had to write it..LOL.****

**Disclaimer: **Don't own anyone…LOL.

          It was bad getting kicked out by my own father, but it was worse seeing him…

          I had no ulterior motives. I just wanted my family back, because it was lonely where I was now. I tried Shane, tried to reach him…but found him too proud to have any part of me or anyone else for that matter. I knew his ego was busted, destroyed. Mine was and still is too, but…I still just wanted to feel the love I used to have. I knew it was not so attainable from the start, but I knew it was worth a shot…

          I hadn't seen Jericho since I was kicked out. With reluctance, I had to admit to myself that I started to miss our verbal sparring. Sure, I was usually on the receiving end, but he always did keep me on my toes. Kept me sharp. It livened up my life a little, kept me from turning into someone like Shane…always serious, always angry at the world.

          With Jericho, I had no reason to hate the world, because Jericho himself was so much worse. But what I saw scared me, scared me even more then the thought of being put down by my own father. I only looked at him a moment, and saw no life in his usual mischievous eyes. He was just there, and all he was about was the two titles around his shoulders. It was like he had no personality at all, just anger and greed.

          Just like Shane.

          I wanted to plead him to just go all out, hell, to make me cry. It would at least show that the old Jericho was still in there, the side of him that everyone loved. He was never a clown; he just had an overall love of life and love of trouble. He rebelled against societies' so called rules, which just happened to please the fans. But now…he was a simple butt-kisser, not to mention the fact he was cheating every match he had. While I hadn't seen him in person since that moment, I had seen his victory, and his few victories afterwards.

          I barely even knew him past the fighting, but for some reason I never saw him as one to be satisfied with winning by blatantly using outside interference, especially when the interference was my dad who I thought he always hated. They seem so buddy buddy now that it actually freaks me out a little. At the same time, though, my mind goes back to when he attacked Chyna…

          Was that really how he was inside? So dark and dangerous? Was he destined to be evil and downright nasty? I didn't even know someone could piss off Rob, yet I saw him stamping off, not even nodding a hello to me. I knew Jericho was the cause of it, that he was the first person that got under his skin so badly that Rob was a shell of his former calm self.

          Of all people, I never imagined him being the one to sell out. He just seemed so…well, likeable. I hated him, still do, but he was getting respect more or less from everyone even without his titles. Actually, now he had no respect at all, and it isn't even because of his cheating…it was the fact he was acting like he wasn't doing that, that he was winning them all clean. He deserved those titles, as much as I hated to admit it, but it would have been a sweeter victory if he won it without anybody helping him, to prove that he could do it. I don't even think he knows he can do it that way himself.

          But I have no place here, no say in anything, and I am not one to give him advice in being fair.

          "Stephanie…"

          The voice caused goose bumps to appear on my skin. It was cold, dull. I turned to see him looking at me, the two titles still on his arms.

          "Hello Chris." I murmured, looking him over cautiously.

          "Chris? Since when did you start using my first name?" he asked, smirking. I just stared at him, not saying anything. "Pretty funny how it all turned out, isn't it, Steph? Here I am, the undisputed champion…and you…well, did Hooters give you a job yet?"

          I glared at him furiously. "You don't know when to quit, do you?"

          "Only a few months ago, you were calling me a loser. I was a little disappointed, Steph, you didn't see my great win. I seem to recall you calling me a loser so many months ago, when you actually had a job…you don't even deserve to be near me now."

          Usually comments like that didn't actually hurt me, but this one did. The way he said it was so different then the insults of the earlier years I had known him. It was said in a cold, mocking, cruel manner that made it really hit me. I bit back tears as I continued to glare at him.

          "You know what, Jericho, you have it wrong. I might not be in the WWF anymore, hell, I might be jobless, but at least I changed a little for the better. You're just a pompous, arrogant, horrible jackass now that can't win a match fairly if your life depended on it!" I felt anger welling up in me as much as the tears were welling up in my eyes. "You can parade around with those titles until the world ends and no one, not anyone, will respect you because you're acting like a spoiled brat!"

          His eyes grew angry. "Well, I guess it takes one to know one, doesn't it?"

          I slapped him. Hard. Across the jaw. He looked at me like I had just stabbed him. Breathing heavily, I took out the single box I had stashed in my pocket and threw it at him. "Merry Christmas, you bastard."

          He stared at the box that was thrown at him, then at me. I let him say no more. I turned and left him standing there, looking a bit shocked at what had just happened.

          "Steph, wait…"

          I felt tears well up in my eyes and I broke out into a run, not looking back. It turned out Jericho had become what I teased him about not being. He was a champion, on a winning streak. He wasn't a clown anymore. He was serious about everything.

          To my horror, my words have undoubtedly come back to haunt me, and all I could do is feel sorry I had wished for it all to be.


End file.
